26 May:
Bree has certainly lived up to my anticipations this first night, even my most ardent ones, for momentous and frenetic activity. This first record in a new diary should prove an auspicious overture.
I write this from one of Butterbur's less squalid rooms. Scarcely better than a closet, with unadorned walls of smoke-stained wood, a single guttering candle, a straw tick scarcely less formless than a moss-pile (and no softer). One could hardly speak of the luxury of the appurtenances inasmuch as there don't seem to be any more beyond the barest necessities. The man's beer remains the very best, better even then when last I tasted it -- though I was still a boy then without need to shave -- but that cannot be enough to explain the perennial popularity of his public house. It can be none other than his location, in the shelter of Bree-hill and within sight of Greenway Crossing. There is naught about it the Peaceful Peach does not put to shame, apart from the beer, of course.
And yet here I sit penning in my new diary without so much as a desk to sit at, rather than at the Peach. When my salutatory and unhurried stroll from Trestlebridge came at last to Newharrow, all seemed well at the Peaceful Peach, but my anxious rappings at the door went unanswered. I know as I write this the only sensible reason is that Piper was out and about on one of the many errands that keeping up such a fine and well-appointed house of lodging requires. But as I cogitate on her reasons to have grievances with me -- the undelivered letter, the many times I have teased her, my very departure for Trestlebridge and distance from the family (and not speaking of reasons for it) -- I cannot but summon up imaginings of her in a shadowy window, watching me approach, hearing the tapping at the door, and choosing to remain, silent, perhaps fuming. Surely not. By the end of the week I will have made such reconciliation as I can, and hopefully secured a place, at least for a time, within the Peach, where I shall enjoy such luxuries as are owed to even the rudest of creatures who speak.
If I have not by the end of the week, I must perforce seek better billet than the Pony. And not merely to escape the must and noise, but also for the cost. My purse is not drained, but until I find employ, Butterbur's scandalous levy would make it too light, too quick.
Apart from the room, though, Bree has lived up to every anticipatory fancy that struck me, at least as occurrences of interest are accounted. The common room of the public house was home to many people, more than a few comely and in some cases charming, though more of them were of an Elven quality than I would have normally expected; not even my charms are likely to avail with them. But I had the good fortune -- good fortune indeed! for surely it began as the very contrary -- to make several new acquaintances. Perhaps most of import is that more happened in a single night at the Pony than I think took place in the sleepy burg of Trestlebridge for my entire tenure in service to Mister Suggs.
Foremost amongst my new associates would be Arthur Hazelwood, of the Bree Hazelwoods, and Liffey, of whom I know little, save that I would not want to be her enemy. I had scarce begun to speak to the portly innkeep when both of them, in turn, bustled past me and rattled off their requirements to the man as if he had been but idly passing the time with me while waiting for their arrival! An inauspicious introduction, though at least Liffey was suitably contrite for her brusquerie. What followed was a comedy of the inexplicable, for somehow an altercation arose out of I cannot say what, by which Hazelwood took cryptic umbrage at some perceived or imagined slight, perhaps to do with his choice to wear his hat indoors. Liffey found the hat itself absurd, though I saw no problem with it beyond the mild gaucherie of keeping it on within the inn, particularly for one of such station as the Hazelwood name affords. Yet somehow he made challenge, with sword to hand, to me!
I reminded him that the custom of duels says that the one to whom challenge is delivered chooses the nature of the duel, then offered (admittedly going somewhat askew from the nature of that custom, as I am unschooled in the ways of battle or fencing) a contest of ax-work, felling chestnuts near the Greenway, and when he refused (as expected) I took his concession as grounds to terminate the disaccord before a donnybrook resulted. Sadly by this time, the most formidable Liffey took up my cause. I cannot know whether my circumlocutory talents would have served, had she not intervened; Arthur was still quite livid and unrelenting, and the rest of the tavern was, I believe, taking wagers on the outcome (I was somewhat flattered that most were in my favor; had they but known I have never held a sword by its hilt in my life!). But the fire was in her eyes and I cannot doubt that little stands long before her when it is. Mere minutes later I was helping the poor Hazelwood out of the fountain, and we were all, no doubt, counting it lucky that steel had never been drawn. His hat may never be unrumpled again, but no blood was shed, nor did the Watch need to intervene.
That Hazelwood then bought us all supper and we passed a fine evening of conversation, also meeting one Caein (apparently he and Liffey share a mutual interest which set me to directing my flattery towards other comely lasses, though by this time the rest had taken leave of the common room), put the bloom on an already exhilarating evening.
It is only a pity I had to adjourn from there, after a digestive constitutional stroll through the cool air of Bree's streets, to so wretched a chamber. Perhaps on the morrow I will see if a better can be secured, if my request is more timely of a morning. No, I should seek to make myself known at the Peach first, before I engage a lodging I may not require. That, then, shall be my undertaking for the morning. Let me hope this abysmal mattress may not leave me too poorly rested for the trial of reconciliation with my sister.
